


Bite Me

by Whoatemyenchilada (Imaslutforsomewhump)



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce has a MD, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not a doctor, Mentor/Protégé, No Romance, Science Bros, Sick Peter, Whump, Wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 09:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13210530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imaslutforsomewhump/pseuds/Whoatemyenchilada
Summary: “Happy, can enhanced humans get sick?” Peter asked gnawing on his lip. Happy looked at him in the rearview mirror.“You not feeling well, kid?” Happy asked, emotion cracking through his usual stoicism.“It's just like- Hypothetically...”“Right, hypothetically,”





	Bite Me

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fiction in years. I just kinda got inspired by some whump blogs and by my dog biting me? So here ya go!

Peter had been working late with Mr. Stark. And to be honest, he didn’t really want to deal with Queens tonight. So, he swung around in Manhattan for a good two to three hours. Contrary to popular belief, there really isn’t a lot of crime in New York. Peter can thank gentrification and wealth inequality for that. So after, looking around for a bit, Peter Swung into the trees in Central Park. This was actually one of his favorite places to swing. There were so many branches and places to climb, it was like a jungle gym. Since it was around midnight and weekday, the park was pretty a quiet. A homeless man was sleeping in the seats of the open air theatre. A young man was walking his dog around the reservoir and a small dog was hiding under a picnic table- wait. Dog. By itself… In New York? Peter thought about leaving it, despite his love for dogs, dogs in New York don't stay lost for long. They are returned almost immediately. But it was going down to around 40 tonight and Peter didn't want to risk it.

Peter knelt by the picnic table. The dog seemed to be a terrier of some kind. It looked to be about 15 pounds. 

“Come on, doggo,” Peter cooed at the dog, who just bared its teeth. Peter rolled his eyes.

“Oh, don’t do that, I’m a nice neighborhood Spiderman,” Peter continued reaching his hand under the table to allow the dog to sniff. The dog seemed rather disinterested and even made a disgruntled growling noise. It was probably scared and tired and even a little cold.

Peter sighed and just went to grab it. He was ready to head home. 

Peter yelped at the dog bit his wrist when he pulled it out from under the table. 

“Shit,” Peter said looking at the cuff of his suit which now had two or three tiny little teeth marks ripped into it. Peter shifted the dog to be carried under his left arm as he looked at the damage of the suit. It didn’t actually hurt more than it surprised him. He just didn't want the rips dragging creating bigger holes in his outfit. 

He shifted the dog again who seemed to be calming down. Peter could see its tail was still between its legs. 

“It’s okay, you'll be home real soon,” Peter checked the tag to find out that the dog's name was Cookie along with a phone number.

“Karen, can you call this number,” He asked his AI.

A woman answered and was all too happy to hear that her dog was found safe and sound. She cried a bit, offered a reward to which Peter declined and was willing to meet Peter at his house, she said. Peter finally settled on bringing the dog to the woman’s apartment building. Swinging was faster than the woman, getting ready, walking to the subway and then finding her way to Peter.   
She gave Peter a hug as he handed her Cookie. The dog seemed much happier. It’s black and white tail was wagging and even allowed Peter to pet it. 

“Did she bite you!?” the woman asked looking at Peter’s arm.

“Yeah, but it’s fine, she was just scared,”

“You should put some antibiotic cream on that. Who knows what she got into when she was out,” The woman said.   
Peter said his goodbyes and swung home.  
By the time he peeled off the suit, all evidence of having been bitten were gone. Peter shrugged and got into the shower.

Chem was the last place that Peter wanted to be. Flash was incessantly clicking his pen, and Peter had a feeling it wasn’t mindless but rather just to bother him. And it was working. His hand was also bothering him. Every few minutes of taking notes, a burning sensation crawled from his wrist into his palm. Peter eventually gave up on the notes with the hope that MJ was actually writing stuff down and not making a list on how to overthrow the current government. 

By the end of class, Peter was not feeling great, his body could not seem to decide if he was hot or cold which resulted in an uncomfortable alternation between getting sweaty and getting goosebumps and chills. 

So when the bell rang, Peter was done enough that he didn’t even say bye to MJ. He felt the urge to flip off Flash but thought better of it. The last thing he wanted was a black eye on top of… whatever the fuck this was. 

Peter was happy to see Happy already parked in front of the school. He thought about texting the man and asking if he could skip the day in the lab that he and Mr. Stark had planned. But he had been looking forward to this for weeks! Mr. Stark was gonna show him an easier way to synthesize his webbing. 

So he threw his backpack into the back and slid in.

“How was school, kid?” Happy and he had gotten a lot closer since the vulture incident. Peter knew that Happy blamed himself a little. And Happy secretly was growing to really like the endlessly curious but also kind of annoying bug-boy his boss had decided to mentor. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Peter said dramatically throwing his arm over his eyes. Happy smiled. 

“That good, huh?” Peter sat up from his slouched positions.

“Happy, can enhanced humans get sick?” Peter asked gnawing at his lip. Happy looked at him in the rearview mirror.

“You not feeling well, kid?” Happy asked, a little bit of emotion cracking through his usual stoicism.

“It's just like- Hypothetically”

“Right, hypothetically,”

“You know for- uh-future reference,” Peter added licking his lips.

“You should probably ask Mr. Stark or Banner. I’m not an expert on these sorts of things,” Happy still looked concerned.

“Right, right,” Peter muttered.

“Kid, if something happens, you either tell me or Tony, you got that right? Don’t deal with shit on your own,” Happy was still staring at him! Oh my god. 

The rest of the ride to the tower was silent except for the rustling of Peter taking his jacket on and off repeatedly to deal with his body’s weird decision to change temperatures. 

 

Tony wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders leading him into his workshop which still made Peter freak out a little each time he saw it.

To be honest, Peter wasn’t listening to Tony. Usually, he would be hanging on every word his mentor/idol said but his head was swimming. It was like someone had taken out everything in his head and filled it with compressed gas that was creating a deep pressure against all sides of his skull.

“-Anyway, I was thinking about black webbing that is stiffer than the white webbing. A more solid consistency if you get what I mean. Anyway try these on,” Tony handed Peter a new design of his web shooters.

Peter snapped the left one on with little difficulty, but as soon as the right one touched his wrist, he hissed. Tony was tinkering with something on the table opposite so Peter continued his pursuit in hopes that Tony would not realize the trouble he was having. He realized almost as soon as it was touching his right wrist that it wasn’t going to fit. His wrist had swollen to a bizarre degree and the place where the dog that sunk it’s small tiny teeth into his skin was weeping clear fluid. Healing factor be damned. This hadn’t gone away.

“Shit,” Peter cursed out loud. Tony turned to ask what was going on when he saw the kid’s wrist. His eyes went wide and he sauntered over to where Peter was sitting on a stool.

“What the fuck is this?” Tony asked gesturing to Peter’s abnormally large wrist. 

“My healing factor, I-I thought that-”

“You should have come to me right away, are you kidding,” Tony cut him off. He was no longer looking at the kid’s wrist but right at him in a way that made him want to squirm out of view and then squirm home into bed and then never leave.

Peter kept quiet as Tony turned his attention back to Peter’s arm.

“Okay, how did you get this? Knife scratch? What?” Tony was still pretty fired up. Peter mumbled incoherently under his breath.

“You’re gonna have to speak up,”

“A terrier,” Peter mumbled a bit louder this time. Tony started to laugh and then quieted when he saw his protege’s unhappy and slightly embarrassed face. 

“Right, um, dog bites. It didn’t clear up overnight?”

“Does it look like it cleared up?” Peter snapped before sighing and rubbing his left hand down his face stopping at the bridge of his nose to try to massage some of the annoying pressure away.

Tony took a minute to step back and really look at Peter for a moment. His sweater was half falling off one of his shoulders, his cheeks were flushed and a purple-bluish tone lay under his eyes.

“Do you have any other symptoms,” Tony asked crossing his arms over his chest.

“Not really,” Peter said not meeting the older man’s eyes.

“In non-Peter terms yes, correct?” Tony clarified raising an eyebrow disapprovingly.

“Yeah, I guess,” Peter gave in.

“Are you going to tell me or leave me to guess?” Tony asked more playful than annoyed. 

“Right, uh- I mean… I've been sweating and shivering but like at the same time. My head um feels a bit like my brain has melted out my ear,” Peter admits with a grimace.

“So no different than normal,” Tony joked before stretching a hand out to feel Peter’s forehead.

“Shit, kid, um I don’t know how to deal with this, I’m not a doctor. Well, I am a doctor but not like that kind of doctor. But luckily you and I know someone who is that kind of doctor… Well, when he isn’t making excuses,”

 

That’s how Peter ended up in Bruce’s lab sitting on a cushioned lab bench looking very unhappy. Bruce is standing in front of him with his glasses on looking at a chart apparently Tony had made for him. And Tony is sitting in a chair next to the table. 

Bruce looks up from the chart.

“You know Peter, I love having you in my lab to work with but not like this,” He says a slight smile on his face.

“Sorry,” Peter mutters, he’s getting tired, not really feeling like joking back. Bruce seems to sense this. His lips form a thin line. 

“Right, uh let’s get on with it then,”

Peter is instructed to remove his sweatshirt which he isn’t all that happy about. Bruce gently picks up his arm and Peter jerks it back and lets out a small whine. Bruce stiffens and Tony looks about ready to jump from his chair. Peter’s arm is now clutched to his chest protectively. His eyes closed tightly. 

“Peter I really need to see your arm,” Bruce says moving closer to the teen. Peter gingerly brings his arm out to show to Bruce who once again lightly holds it. Peter winces but doesn't pull away. Bruce asks Peter to move his fingers and wrist which all move but not without significant pain. Bruce steps away from his patient taking off his latex gloves and tossing them into the bin in the corner.

“Bruce, I don’t understand… How does this happen with his healing factor,” Tony asks looking at his friend. Bruce sighs heavily. And Peter opens his eyes enough to look at the older man.

“Well, on a normal person, I would say it would take about a few days for the infection to get this bad because they would have had time to clean it out. I expect that for Peter, by the time, he had a moment to stop to clean his wound, it was already closed trapping whatever bacteria that was in the wound into his body. His cells work faster than ours so they got ready to defend against infection quicker. And of course, the way we see the body fighting is by noticeable inflammation, swelling redness and even fever and chills,” Bruce gestures to the teen on the table.

“So what do we do about it?” Tony asks. Bruce grimaces.

“I have to lance it,” Bruce says with a shake of his head. Tony’s eyes go wide and Peter just looks confused.

“You can't just, I don’t know, give him some antibiotics and send him on his way?” Tony asks standing. His voice is desperate and deep but also unnaturally quiet.

“Tony you know how this works,” Bruce looks apologetic. Tony swears than pivots to face Peter. 

“Peter, we have to take care of that wound,” Tony says not actually meeting the teen's eyes. Peter bites his lip.

“Uh- in order to do that, Peter, I need to drain the pus,” Bruce says gently taking Peter’s good hand. Peter, in response just bites his lip harder. 

“I will explain everything as we go, I just need to grab some supplies,” Bruce says letting go of Peter’s hand and starting to dig through cabinets. Tony takes the hand that Bruce left. Peter is slightly shaking, Tony doesn’t know if it’s because he’s cold or because he’s scared. Maybe it’s both. 

“Peter, I will be right here, okay,” Tony assures squeezing his hand. Bruce comes back around with a tray full of frightening looking medical tools. Peter stares at them, his breathing accelerates drastically.

“Hey Peter, look at me,” Peter’s eyes dart wildly about the room. Tony grabs his chin. 

“It will be okay. You can squeeze my hand till it falls off,” Peter smiles slightly at this.

“Peter you need to lie down. Tony, hold his hand,” Bruce instructs. He grabs two new gloves and opens a wrapper with a scalpel inside. Peter swallows hard as Tony helps him lay back. Peter is staring hard where Bruce is laying out gauze to catch whatever comes out of his damn arm. 

“Peter, don’t look at what I’m doing, look at Tony,” Bruce says.   
Peter feels like a specimen on a table. The two men looking down at him and the fluorescent lights washing out the room. Tony squeezes his good hand in reassurance and smiles down at him. Peter does not want to appear weak but a tear escapes his eye and Tony's face looks like it’s about to crumple in response. 

“First cut,” Bruce announces and Peter shuts his eyes against the world. More tears leak out. As Bruce drags the scalpel across the infected skin Peter whines, more tears dripping out of his eyes.   
Bruce looks up at Tony as he places the scalpel down. They both know what’s coming next. It’s a silent agreement. Tony places an arm across Peter’s chest immobilizing him.

“Hey what are you-” Peter starts before he screams as Bruce pushes down. His back arches off the table as he tries to move away from the thing causing the pain. The pus pours out of the wound as Peter’s screams taper into choking sobs and heaving breaths. Tony is squeezing his own eyes tightly.

“One more squeeze and then we’re done, okay Peter?” Bruce says, he doesn’t look at the boy’s face. He has a job to do. 

“Please,” Peter sobs in reply. Bruce just shakes his head and goes in. Peter feels like he’s going to throw up. His body heaves as the last of the liquid pours from his wound. Tony lifts his arm off the boy's chest and Peter is immediately over the side of the table retching. His lunch is forced up along with what looks like breakfast. Tony Sidesteps the vomit and rubs Peter’s back as he chokes and sobs. Once it appears that he is done, Tony carefully hugs him avoiding his right side. Peter first Tony’s shirt and cries into his mentor. He was sure that any other time this would be horribly embarrassing but right now all he can think about is someone holding him.

“He just needs to dress it, now okay bud?” Tony says into the boy's hair.

The peroxide is nothing compared to what he just went through. Bruce carefully wraps a bandage around the appendage. Bruce discards the gloves and moves back to the table where Peter has found himself once again in the arms of Tony Stark.

“You did really good, kiddo,” Bruce says with a small smile. He ruffles Peter’s hair. Peter’s sobs had died down into little choking noises. 

“Just rest,” Bruce says as he helps Tony lay the teen back down who was starting to look sleepy. After hooking him up to an IV Bruce turns to Tony.

“Out of all the procedures I have done, that was the worst,” Bruce's eyes are wet, he grabs a blanket to drape over the now sleeping boy. He sits down on the other side of Peter with a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. Tony holds his hand and they just pray that all will be fixed soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Whump blog is: Imaslutforsomegoodhurtcomfort


End file.
